


Running Lines

by Sara_Ellison



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Godstiel - Freeform, Incest, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-16
Updated: 2013-02-16
Packaged: 2017-11-29 11:49:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/686640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Ellison/pseuds/Sara_Ellison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen and Misha add their own interpretation to a scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Lines

**Author's Note:**

> This is set at the beginning of season 7, and was written before I knew what would happen with Godstiel...

Their voices caught his attention, indistinctly drifting across the lot at the end of the day. It was curiosity that drew him toward them, and interest that caused him to stay and watch when he found Misha and Jensen on the motel room set, running lines for one of their scenes. Sam wasn’t in that scene. Jared stood in the doorway, unnoticed by his costars for the moment.

“Dean, I am offering you another chance,” Misha was saying in the rough, dark voice of a power-mad angel. For once, he wasn’t wearing his trenchcoat or even the blue tie. He was clad in only dark trousers and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Jensen stood only a couple feet from him, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. “Cas, look at yourself. This isn’t you. Where’s the angel I trusted, the one who called me his friend?”

“I am no longer merely an angel, Dean.”

Jensen snorted. “Truer words, Castiel.”

Misha’s eyes flashed angrily, convincingly. “I am a God. Your God, if you only had the wisdom to recognize it. Please, Dean, do the smart thing here. Kneel before me and swear to me your loyalty and your love.”

Jensen’s face changed, broke character—where before he’d been filled with defiance, righteousness, cold fury and betrayal, he now _smiled_ , sardonic and a little flirtatious. Jared, from his position at the door, frowned. He was pretty sure that wasn’t in the script.

“If you wanted me on my knees, Cas, you only had to ask,” Jensen was saying, and the words certainly sounded like something Dean would say, but his voice had lost its characteristic Winchester growl.

“I’m asking,” Misha said, and if anything his voice had become even darker, roughened by something that probably wasn’t divine power. Jared’s jaw dropped. “Get on your knees,” Misha continued, “and put that beautiful mouth of yours to good use.” He leaned in close to Jensen, and Jared had to strain to catch his next words. “Pray to your new God.”

Jared blinked, then pinched himself just to be sure, but there was no mistaking the telltale bulge in Misha’s trousers as Jensen dropped to his knees in front of him, obedient in action but Jared recognized the mischievous fire in his eyes. Misha reached out to caress Jensen’s face, running the pad of his thumb over Jensen’s lower lip.

Perhaps Jared should leave. And if that wasn’t the most ridiculous idea ever, he didn’t know what was, because if Misha and Jensen didn’t want to be seen, why were they doing this on the set of a television show? He stood rooted in place, half-hidden in the shadows by the door but if only one of them turned their head, he’d be seen, they’d know he was watching as Jensen parted his lips to run his tongue against the edge of Misha’s thumb, as his deft hands unzipped Misha’s trousers, pushing constricting cloth away to free Misha’s cock, swollen and already leaking slick wetness. Jared’s own cock twitched in his pants, painful with sudden hardness, and he pressed the heel of his hand to his groin, aching for some relief.

Jensen leaned in, pressing his mouth to Misha's hip, bypassing his cock entirely as he tongued at the crease where thigh met pelvis. His hands came up to grip Misha's thighs, bracketing his hips and holding him still. Jensen's tongue flicked out, teasing strokes against Misha's balls and the base of his cock.

"That's it," Misha growled, somehow, impossibly, still in character. "Worship me, Dean." He cupped the back of Jensen's neck, the heel of his hand just under his jaw. Jensen mouthed at the length of him, open-mouthed kisses along his shaft, until Misha took hold of his own cock and pushed the head of it against Jensen's lips, leaving shiny smears of precome. Jensen smirked up at him, then, eyes locked with Misha's. He opened his mouth and took Misha inside all at once, swallowing him whole.

There was nothing angelic or holy about the sound that tore from Misha's throat. Jared could see the outline of Misha's cock as Jensen's cheeks hollowed, sucking hard. Jared bit his own lip, his hands fumbling desperately at his zipper to free his erection from his jeans. Misha's breath was coming shallow, head thrown back as his hips rocked incrementally. Jensen drew off and swallowed him down again, his perfect lips stretched tight and pink around Misha, glistening with saliva and precome.

Jared wrapped a hand around his achingly hard cock, thumb smearing precome over the head. There was more of it than he'd realized, a wet spot left on his boxers and strands clinging down his length. It was all he could do not to moan aloud as he stroked himself, slowly, hips rocking as he fucked his hand.

"Fuck, Jensen," Misha was saying, "your mouth is a gift from God."

Jensen pulled back, grinning wickedly. "You'd know, wouldn't you, Castiel?" His voice was hoarse from Misha fucking his throat, but the look in his eyes was pure Dean, taunting and defiant even as he leaned in again to lap at the glistening head of Misha's cock.

Misha visibly swallowed another curse and slid back into character. "Your God is pleased with you, Dean," he growled. "If only your brother had your wisdom."

"You want Sam too? What, suddenly I'm not enough for you, Cas?"

Jared started at the mention of his character, his cock jumping in his loose grip as Misha turned to look straight at him. "What kind of God has only one worshiper?" Misha asked, and the logic of that sentiment made so much sense to Jared in that moment that he was stumbling into the room, hand still on his cock, before he remembered that, gorgeous as he was, Misha was only human.

They were both looking at him expectantly and Jared felt he ought to say something, but his mouth had gone dry. He licked his lips and tried, "I don't remember this part from the script."

"It's called improvisation. It's something real actors do," Jensen snarked back, and above him Misha snorted with laughter. "Come on, Sammy," Jensen added. "We owe Castiel at least this much." He reached for Jared.

Playing along seemed by far the best option, so Jared moved toward them, letting Jensen catch hold of his hand and pull him down to his knees in front of Misha, positioned between him and Jensen. Jared turned his head sideways and caught Jensen's lips with his own, tongue delving hungrily into his mouth. He tasted of Misha, the salty-bitter tang of him slicked over Jensen's tongue. Above them, Misha made soft noises of appreciation.

Jared broke the kiss when he felt Misha's hand in his hair, gently but firmly pulling his head towards him. Misha's other hand was wrapped around his own cock, and Jared's breath caught at the simple beauty of that--white fingers against the dark hair at its base, gripping the ruddy velvet shaft. He swallowed, hungry for it. Jensen leaned in to mouth at Jared's neck, hot breath just below his ear, and murmured, "Sam wants to worship you, Castiel."

"Yes," Jared breathed, almost reverently, and Misha pushed the head of his cock against Jared's lips. Jared didn't take him in immediately, but pressed his mouth against it for a moment, simply feeling the firm-soft, blood-hot flesh under its slick sheen of precome, memorizing it with his mouth. He tongued at the slit, the clear fluid pulsing from it almost sweet.

Behind him, Jensen made a soft sound of desire and caught hold of Jared's waist, hands slipping under the hem of his t-shirt to slide across his belly, fingers mapping the planes of his abdomen. Jensen pressed his entire body to Jared's from thighs to shoulders; Jared could feel Jensen's erection throbbing through two layers of denim. And that wasn't right--he caught Jensen's hands in his own, drawing them downward to the waistband of his jeans. Jensen took the hint, hooking his thumbs under the elastic of Jared's underwear and tugging them down along with the jeans, pushing them down to Jared's knees as Jared wrapped his lips around the head of Misha's cock.

"Fuck," Misha hissed, pushing his hips forward so that he slid another inch into Jared's mouth.

Jensen chuckled. "That's the general idea," he said, and pressed against Jared again. Somewhere in there he'd shed his own jeans, and their bodies fit together like pieces of a puzzle, Jensen's cock slipping in the cleft of Jared's ass. He brought a hand up, wrapped it around Misha's cock where it disappeared into Jared's mouth. Jensen's fingers rubbed Jared's lips, stretched around Misha's girth; Jared stretched them still wider to suckle at his fingers too, slicking them with mingled saliva and precome. Jensen made a choked-off noise that went straight to Jared's cock, causing it to jerk against his belly.

When Jensen's wet fingers slipped into the cleft of Jared's ass he groaned, the sound vibrating through Misha's cock and drawing an answering moan from him as he bucked his hips. Jared relaxed his throat, letting Misha fuck into his mouth as Jensen's fingers circled Jared's hole, teasing briefly before pressing inside. Jensen's other hand found Jared's cock, giving it a slow stroke from root to tip as his fingers pressed deeper. It wasn't quite enough lubrication, but when Jensen's fingers found that spot inside him it didn't quite seem to matter, making him rock back involuntarily onto Jensen's hand.

"Look at him," Misha groaned, his voice deep and rough, half from the character he was playing and half from having his cock halfway down Jared's throat. "Look how much he wants it, Dean."

Jensen, by way of answer, bit Jared's neck lightly, teeth scraping over the tendon, and withdrew his hand. Jared would have protested, but before he could even think about pulling off of Misha's cock to speak, the fingers were replaced by the firm push of the head of Jensen's dick. He rocked his hips back, meeting Jensen halfway as he pressed in. Jensen's hand tightened around Jared's cock and he groaned against Jared's skin, sending a tight curl of heat through Jared's belly.

Jared's cock was leaking badly as Misha's hand tightened in his hair. Misha was getting close, Jared could tell, from the way he rocked his hips, barely holding back, and the soft noises he made in the back of his throat. Jensen, behind him, pulled out slowly and thrust in again, sparking against Jared's prostate. Jared realized with a jolt just how close he himself was, his cock leaking copiously in Jensen's fist, balls drawn up tight.

Jensen's thrusts were increasing in speed, his breath hot and hard under Jared's ear. "Come on," he growled. "Come for me. Come for Castiel." Jared pulled back to mouth at the head of Misha's cock, tongue pressing against the slit, and Jensen leaned in to meet Jared's mouth with his own, both their tongues curling around Misha's cock.

" _Fuck_ ," Misha gasped, "oh, fuck, I'm--God--" and his hand tightened painfully in Jared's hair as he came, pulsing hot over both their mouths, slick and sticky.

"Yes you are, Cas," Jensen said, grinning with Misha's come dripping from his lips, and that sight pushed Jared over the edge, clenching around Jensen's cock as he spurted over his fist. Jensen milked him through it, pumping Jared's cock until he whimpered, oversensitized, and pushed Jensen's hand away. Jensen gripped both Jared's hips, then, as he fucked him faster, losing his rhythm as he drove into him, until finally he cried out wordlessly, hips stuttering, and stilled as he came.

Misha dropped to his knees and leaned in to kiss Jensen, licking his own come from Jensen's mouth, then turned to catch Jared's lips and did the same. "You two," he said breathlessly, "are fucking gorgeous, you know that?"

"Yeah, we know," Jensen said, smirking as he carefully pulled out of Jared, before half-collapsing to the floor, tangling his legs with Jared's and knocking him off balance so that he sprawled half into Misha's lap.

Jared laughed. "And modest, too." He pushed himself up onto an elbow and reached for his jeans, still tangled around his knees, ignoring Jensen's come still leaking out of him as he pulled them up. He'd have to deal with that later, but right now, he didn't care.

Jensen's smirk, if it was possible, grew more wicked. "Tomorrow, when we shoot this scene," he said, and didn't need to finish the sentence because Misha groaned in distress.

"That means," Jared translated helpfully, "five minutes before shooting, we'll find him in his trailer, jacking off."

Jensen grew contemplative. "Perhaps," he mused, "you'll find me there too, giving him a hand."

Misha drew himself up, as dignified as could be with his trousers undone, sex-flush lingering on his cheekbones. "Your God is grateful for your sacrifice," he intoned.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by [Obstinatrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Obstinatrix/), i.e. it's all her fault. Also, I’m pretty sure this is my first RPF ever. At least, first that’s seen the light of day…and I don't think I've ever written porn quite this explicitly descriptive, either. Ahem.


End file.
